


Greetings, from San Junipero!

by stardusts (ghostiies)



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: M/M, The san junipero au nobody wanted except me, aged up to about 20, big fun time, tags added as chapters progress, very 80s neon, very gay, you dont have to watch san junipero to read!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 17:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12917007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostiies/pseuds/stardusts
Summary: Eddie isn't a party boy by any means. He doesn't enjoy alcohol, music that goes beyond a certain volume, or particularly sweaty crowds of dancing people. Yet here he is, slowly wandering through San Junipero- "party city".





	Greetings, from San Junipero!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! so this is my first multi-chapter! criticism is highly valued but please be nice about it lmfao. i hope you all enjoy!!   
> I've tried to write it so you dont need to have seen san junipero to read!  
> (ALSO I HIGHLY RECOMMEND LISTENING TO THE SAN JUNIPERO SOUNDTRACK) 
> 
> DISCLAIMER; I will not be writing ANY smut scenes. I plan to just write around those scenes.

Eddie isn't a party boy by any means. He doesn't enjoy alcohol, music that goes beyond a certain volume, or particularly sweaty crowds of dancing people. Yet here he is, slowly wandering through San Junipero- "party city". He feels like he’s being smothered in a thick smog of tacky neon lights and loud, overlapping music. He might have walked right back out of the city, if he had anywhere else to go. A pale blue cadillac eldorado speeds past, blowing his hair lightly as it skirts sharply around the corner, the stream of music previously erupting from the car’s shoddy speakers slowly fading with distance. He flinches on auto response, before catching himself and coughing lightly. Not that anyone was paying attention to the small boy in a plain white sweater, meandering through the city like a lost puppy. Really, he just wanted to get a feel for the city, get some bearings. Yet he’s been wandering around for about 2 hours and he’s never felt so lost among the neon pink haze that is San Junipero.

His eyes catch upon a particularly bright sign, flashing occasionally. It’s one big eye-strain bolted to the front of a building in Eddie’s opinion, but it certainly got his attention so he supposes it’s filled its purpose. The large sign reads “Tucker’s” in big, blue and pink blocked text. He considers going in for a drink, eyeing the purple light erupting from the open doorway until his mental debate is interrupted by two loud voices piercing through. He recognises one boy with thick, crooked glasses that make him look 3 years younger and dark curls that spring away from his head in all directions to be the source of one voice. He appears to be arguing with the man trailing behind, rolling his eyes several times and shrugging the man’s hand off his shoulder huffily. He’s cute, Eddie supposes. The boy lets out an elongated ‘ugh’ noise before walking straight ahead, losing the other man as he walks straight into the club and into the swarming mass of people. Eddie’s mind suddenly feels made up, and he takes a tentative step towards Tuckers.

Immediately upon entering, he feels swarmed with purple lights, a constant bustle of conversation and the loud music blaring across to the many party-goers within the club. It’s almost dizzying, trying to work through the sway of the crowd. Briefly he glances over towards an arcade section, deciding not to bother upon viewing the amount of car games. He orders himself a coke, plain, sliding into a small booth for 2. Despite his initial worries, now that he’s not trapped among a million sweaty bodies all swinging wildly to the beat, he can appreciate the club as a decent place. Clean enough, good atmosphere, seemingly alright DJ. He thinks he could learn to like it within this city, maybe. The boy from earlier re-enters his vision, curls bouncing as he enthusiastically dances among the crowd, not-so-subtly edging away from the man obviously trying to chat him up. He didn’t look particularly uncomfortable or scared by said man- just annoyed. Now that Eddie’s mind feels clearer, he can really see how attractive Nameless Curly Boy is. His glasses are too big and give him a boyish quality, yet it feels strangely suiting of him. He’s lanky and his dress sense is terrible (- a bright pink shell jacket? really?) but yet he makes it work for him. Eddie can’t tell if he’s impressed or jealous over it.

For a moment, the boy takes a glance in his direction. Eddie can feel himself fidget nervously as he watches the boy’s face light up momentarily, a metaphorical light bulb hanging over his head. He doesn’t even have time to let the anxiety build before he’s unceremoniously dumping himself on the other side of Eddie’s booth.

“Listen, just go with what I say here, alright?” He whispers quickly, a lopsided grin spreading across his features. Eddie might appreciate the sight more if he wasn’t so damn confused and anxious.

“I- what?” He asks, his voice falling off slightly at the end. Richie just shoots him a pointed stare before the man he was previously arguing with comes to a stop in front of them and casually leans against their table, staring directly at the curly haired boy, almost as if Eddie wasn’t even there. He’d changed his mind. He hated this bar. This was the last thing he wanted to get caught in.

“Come on, Rich! We only got a couple hours left. Let’s make use of it! We sure did last time.” The unnamed man pleads, raising a quietly suggestive eyebrow at the boy now known to Eddie as “Richie”. Briefly glancing over, he can immediately sense the annoyance creasing Richie’s brow.

“Look- that was last week. Never again. Plus- I gotta catch up with my friend here! He’s sick….6 months, you know?” Richie retorted nonchalantly, a slight bite to his tone. Before Eddie even really thinks about it, he’s jumping in the conversation himself.

“Actually? It’s 5.” He adds, feeling something catch in his throat with anxiety at the approving and thankful glance Richie gives him. The man seems to take a second to think about it, before conceding.

“Right- yeah. Whatever. Sorry about that, by the way.” With that, the man turns to go find some other action somewhere else. Immediately Eddie’s head turns to view Richie crumple in relief to be finally rid of him.

“Oh- thank jesus. Thank ya mate! Couldn’t a’ done it without ya! Noice touch on the 5 months, by the way!” He chirps in what Eddie guesses to be a very butchered Australian accent. “So then- what’s your name, cutie?” He can’t place why, but Eddie actually feels flustered at the offhand affection. He doesn’t let on though, shooting Richie a displeased glare.

“Eddie.” He responds curtly, eyeing Richie cautiously.

“Well I, am Mr. Richie Tozier, at your service!” He responds with a ridiculous mimic of a formal courtesy. “Say- Eds? Is that a plain coke? Seriously? Come on- let’s get you a REAL drink!”

Eddie bites out a complaint at the nickname, but it falls on deaf ears as Richie grabs ahold of his hand and tugs him towards the bar. Eddie wants to say he’s genuinely displeased. But he’s really not. He sits at the bar, lined with white lights and ashtrays, across from Richie who flags over the bartender for two Vodka and cokes. Eddie’s decided once more, that actually? He quite likes this club. He nudges the ashtray in front of him about briefly, only stopping once Richie starts up conversation.

“So- Eddie spaghetti! You live here, or you just a tourist?” He asks, nodding at the bartender in thanks as two glasses are placed between them, dripping with condensation. Eddie decides to focus on that instead, unable to stare Richie directly in the face without stuttering or something.

“Don’t call me that! You could say I’m looking to move over- but if you live here? I might have to reconsider.” Eddie snarks back, immediately reprimanding himself for the overly harsh comment. Luckily for him, Richie takes it in stride, throwing his head back in a laugh that shakes his whole torso with joy. His drink swivels dangerously in his hand, threatening to tip over, but Richie couldn’t seem to care less.

“Oh so cold, Eds! I’m wounded! Lucky for you, I’m just a tourist. For now, anyways.” He responds, shooting an easy grin at Eddie. He slowly raked his eyes up and down Eddie’s apparel, leaving him feeling rather plain and exposed.

“So is the plain dad look a fashion statement?” Richie asks, grinning and giving him a look that lets him know it’s all in jest.

“You’re wearing a pink shell jacket and odd socks. You don’t get to talk to me about fashion.” He quips in response, lips quirking at the laugh that Richie returns with. It makes a strange sense of pride bloom within his chest. A new song takes over the club’s sound system, immediately causing Richie to perk up excitedly as the familiar beat took over his ears. “Eds- we gotta dance to this! Come on! I love this song!”

“Oh- uh, I can’t! I-” Before he can finish mumbling out his half-hearted protest, Richie’s lurched him into the swarming dancefloor, vigorously swaying along with the rest of the crowd. Eddie feels the all-too-familiar claws of nerves begin to scratch at his throat, choking him right in public view. Richie seems to notice, smiling brightly and picking up Eddie’s hands as a comforting gesture.

“Come on Eds! Ease up. Just follow me- I’m the dancing MASTER, after all!” Richie laughs. For a second, Eddie laughs too. He begins to slowly fall into step with Richie, shoulders bumping and swaying in sync. He almost feels relaxed, until he locks eyes with another dancer momentarily. It was an accident- just one of those things. He wasn’t being stared at. Yet immediately it’s like he can feel every eye in the club focused on him, never blinking, never looking away. Only staring. His blood runs cold and before he’s fully in control of himself, he’s panicking and pulling away from Richie to rush outside into the concealing neon smog of the city.


End file.
